


Thickness of Blood

by NerdsbianHokie



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Mage Hawke, Legacy DLC, Warden Carver Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsbianHokie/pseuds/NerdsbianHokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the years since they last saw each other, the last of the Hawkes both learnt new skills.  Carver honed his skills as a Warden, and is less than pleased with his sister's choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thickness of Blood

“I need to talk to my sister,” Carver said, cutting off the banter between Hawke and Isabela.

Hawke pocketed a bag of coins she pulled from the dead dwarf, then stood and faced him.  Isabela stepped up behind her, head cocked to one side.

“Did your parents ever give him The Talk?” She asked.  “This isn’t exactly the best time for the birds and the bees, Junior.”

He glared at the pirate.  “I need to talk to my sister, alone.”  Without another word, he turned and walked away.

“Secret Grey Warden prison, crazy dwarves, perfect time for a heart to heart,” Hawke muttered as she followed him.

He led her into a nearby structure carved out of the stone and started to pace.  A few crates sat against the far wall.  She walked to them, grabbing the coins that sat on top and pulling a dagger from between the crates and wall.  Not a bad blade, a little dull, and some rust near the hilt, but salvageable, and sellable.

Carver was still pacing when she turned back to him.  She leaned against the wall and watched for a few moments, then sighed.

“Well don’t waste all of your energy here.”

He stopped and turned to her, his eyes dark.

“Blood magic?”

Right, that.

“Was that what that was?” She deflected, lifting one shoulder lazily.  “I knew I should have healed myself instead of Varric, bloody dwarf refuses to wear actual armor.”

“This is not time for jests.”

“That wasn’t a jest.  I don’t know how he isn’t already dead, wearing nothing heavier than that coat.”

He glared at her.  She shrugged.  He groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead.

For a moment, Hawke was struck with how much he had grown - how much he looked like father.

“How could you?” he growled.  “You know the dangers of blood magic.”

She sighed and crossed her arms.  “It really isn’t what everyone makes it out to be.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s just…” she cut off, pushing off of the crate and stepping around him.  “I don’t have to explain to you.”

“No, but you will have to explain to Father and Bethany eventually.”

She froze, her back to him.  Her fingers flexed around the hilt of the dagger.

“I sat through how many lectures he gave the two of you on the dangers of blood magic?  Have you forgotten?  How easily it can lead to possession?  How being more powerful only makes you more susceptible?  How dangerous a path it is, no matter how innocently started?”

She turned, forcing a smirk.

“Susceptible?  That’s a large word, the Wardens really are teaching you something.”  The taunt felt wrong on her lips, the words falling flat.  She closed her eyes, and lost the smirk.  “We don’t have time for this, Carver.”

“When, then?  After the dwarves kill us?  Or once you’re an abomination?”

“Can abomination’s hold conversations?  Anders can, but does he really count?”  She sighed.  “I just want him to shut up half the time, honestly.”

He shook his head.  “At least none of them saw you become this.”

She knew who he was talking about.  She let her face go blank to hide the pain, refusing to let him see that he could get to her.

“Or did you show Mother?  One last surprise before she died.”

Mother

_her eyes are wrong, but still recognize her daughter_

Her arm was up, tip of the dagger against his throat before she could think about it.  Carver’s eyes went wide.  He swallowed, only to jerk back as the blade pierced his skin.  He stumbled against the crates.

“Never mention that again,” she growled.

He straightened, head high and shoulders square, and ignored the dagger.  “That’s when, isn’t it?  You turned to blood magic when a blood mage defiled our mother.”

_blade slices through skin, the pain is barely noticed, but the blood…intoxicating_

“You weren’t there.  You have no idea.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”

“What, then?  I want to know.”

“You betrayed all of us.  All those years spent protecting you and Bethany, and you turned into exactly what the Templars want you locked up for.”

They glared at each other, blue eyes into blue.  Just like their father.

“Did she know?” he continued.  “Was the last thing she saw betrayal?”

_"My little girl has grown so strong. I love you. You've always made me proud.”_

_She held back the tears as the body in her arms went limp._

_“Mother?”  Her voice broke around the word.  She pulled the body closer into her, pressing her face into her mother’s hair.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so fucking sorry.”_

_She had been too late.  She hadn’t paid enough attention.  If she had just tried harder, moved faster, she might have been able to…_

_Pain on her arm made itself known._

_She embraced it and let it embrace her._

_The power it had given her - what else did she have to lose?_

She stepped closer, turning the dagger so the length of the blade was against his throat.

For a moment, she was tempted to cut into him, to shut him up forever.  He was already dead, wasn’t he?  Carver himself had said that death ran through his veins.  Would it be so bad to give it to him early?

He seemed to read her mind.  His jaw set and he puffed his chest out slightly.

Just like he had when he was seven and some boys had pushed Bethany out of a tree.  Just like he had when he was fourteen and they had been forced to move - again - and leave his first girlfriend.  Just like he had when Father had died - when he enlisted - when they left Lothering.

She pulled the dagger back and turned from him.

“We’re done.  After all of this, I never want to hear from you again.”

-o-

The pile of rubble was hard against Hawke’s back.  The heat of the fire barely reached her.  The metal of Father’s Key was cool in her fingers.

Her father had once used this staff...for blood magic.

She glanced around camp.  Varric and Isabela were in their bedrolls.  The empty one next to Isabela was barely visible, but calling to her.  She ached, her entire - everything - ached.  Her muscles, her bones, her head, her heart.  She wanted nothing more than to lay down and pass out.

She sighed.  Carver had woken not long ago for his watch, but had taken one look at her before vanishing into the darkness.

Not that she really blamed him.  She had asked for it.  Demanded, really.  It wasn’t like she expected him to forget their argument, even after learning that their father had used blood magic.

Her fingers tensed around the staff.

He had used blood magic for Mother, to keep Mother safe..to keep her safe.  Then, he never used it again.

_I hope it takes after you._

Carver was right.  She didn’t know how she would explain to Father, to Bethany, to Mother.  If they even gave her a chance to.  She wouldn’t blame them for never forgiving her.

A presence appeared at her side.  She tensed, but had heard the armor approaching, seen the flashes of blue and silver.

Carver said nothing.  Hawke said nothing, but didn’t move.

Part of her - a part that sounded too much like Mother - urged her to reconcile with her brother.  She just didn’t know how.

She and Carver had never been close.  Even as children, there had been a rift between them.

She had often thought him envious of her magic.  He had never known of the pride on Father’s face when he looked at his son.

_I would wish this magic on no one._

Father’s face flashed through her mind.  Disappointment quickly hidden behind forced pride.

She had been eight, and had used magic to make two-year-old Carver go to sleep.

She had always thought the disappointment had been from her magic emerging to make her brother shut up.  Now..he hadn’t wanted a mage child.  She, herself had been the disappointment.

What if she hadn’t been a mage?  Would she have been a rogue?  Flipping around with daggers like Isabela?  Or a warrior, maybe.  She doubted she would be any good with the giant swords her brother favored, but maybe a longsword and shield, as Avaline used.

How would things have been different?  Would Bethany still live?  Or Mother?

She flexed her fingers again, and rolled the staff.  The movement pulled at the wound from her magic.  She never healed it, left it as a reminder.

“The man who took Mother,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “he kept summoning demons, had a barrier.”  She shook her head.  “We weren’t making any progress.”  She took a deep breath and lifted the chain sleeve on her left arm.  The revealed scar was ragged, lacked any evidence of healing magic.  “Then, one of the corpses he reanimated got me.  I was tired, and pissed, and wasn’t thinking, and Mother was...  It was just easy, to let the power take over.”

Carver said nothing.  She let the chain fall, then stood.

“If Varric doesn’t wake for his watch, kick him, then run,” she said as she started to walk away.

“Wait,” Carver said.

Hawke stopped, then turned to face him.  He stood.  The maul they had found stood hammer down, the handle resting against his thigh.

“I...apologize, for what I said.”

“That’s a first.”

“Don’t ruin this.”

She shrugged, but relented.

“I’m still pissed at you, but…”

He reached out at took the Key from her.  Her entire body tensed.  He couldn’t use it, and she could fight without it, but losing contact with the instrument went against every bit of magic within her.

Carver turned the staff, inspecting it.

“Mother used to say that you reminded her of him, you know,” he said.  “Always hiding behind a joke, but always protecting family.”

“Oh, are you going to move back to Kirkwall so I can save you from pickpockets and kittens?”

“Damnit, Marian.”

“Ooh, first name, you are serious.”

He glared at her, then glanced over her shoulder.  She turned enough to follow his gaze.  Isabela.

She couldn’t help the way her lips twitched upwards, but made sure the smile was gone when she looked back at him.

“I watched you drain the life out of a dwarf that had managed to sneak up on her, then use the power you got from it to heal her.”  He thrust the Key back at her.  “Just because we’re the only Hawkes left, doesn’t mean you don’t have family.”

“What about you?”

“I have the Wardens.”  He shrugged.  “Kirkwall was never my home the way it became yours.”

“Well, you’ll always have a place there.”

“I know, sister.”

**Author's Note:**

> I played the Legacy for the first time with my first Mage Hawke, and this happened. I wish so much that there was some recognition in the game if you choose the Blood Magic specialization, particularly companion reactions. Like, as soon as you leave the level-up screen, Fenris +(however many to 100) rivalry. I played the DLC late in Act 3, so it had been some time since Hawke and Carver had seen each other.
> 
> I also did force myself to wait until the fight with Quentin to use Blood Magic.


End file.
